


Fever

by Eurus91



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Worried Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:08:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23543647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eurus91/pseuds/Eurus91
Summary: "Jack, you didn't have to do that." The words came out faint and hoarse. His throat hurt. Much. He had the feeling that many small pins had stuck in his throat, even just swallowing seemed painful. It was.“To be a genius you are really stupid sometimes. We've already talked about it, I won't leave you alone.” [...]
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Please stay safe! 💙

"Jack, you didn't have to do that." The words came out faint and hoarse. His throat hurt. Much. He had the feeling that many small pins had stuck in his throat, even just swallowing seemed painful. It was.  
«To be a genius you are really stupid sometimes. We've already talked about it, I won't leave you alone. " Mac grimaced, unable to find the right words to answer Jack; He was too tired and misty to start a squabble with Jack, the only thing he wanted to do was sleep for a whole day. He didn't ask so much. He closed his eyes hoping that someone would listen to his silent prayer, lulled by the familiar sounds of the house and Jack. He could feel the planks of the wooden floor moving under the weight of man's footsteps. Jack seemed to have moved away from the sofa where he was lying, to then get close again, he had distractedly felt the water flow but did not understand what was happening until something cold, indeed ice cream, was pressed against his heated forehead. It was cold, too much and he could not help but suppress a shiver and put on a respectful grimace that made the man chuckle. "Cold..." He mumbled trying to remove the patch from his forehead, groping until he met two strong hands that grabbed his wrists gently.  
“That is in its place. Stop shaking like a carp before the New Year's Eve dinner.”  
"It's cold." He complained, opening his eyes shiny and clouded by fever. In his head his reply seemed perfectly coherent and sensible, but it was not for the man who was patiently looking after him.  
"Yes Mac, it's cold, it serves to prevent your genius brain from overheating."  
"It doesn't work that way..." he stammered, swallowing convulsively at the general feeling of malaise he felt.  
Something was pressed against his dry lips, a straw perhaps. "Take a few sips." The boy shook his head, or at least tried, the world seemed to have cracked dangerously.  
"Nauseous”, slurred between the covers. Mac had this strange ability to appear even smaller than his actual age when he was ill. Blonde tufts and red cheeks protruded from the heavy blankets that Jack had carefully placed on the boy just a few hours before, trying to stem the tremors that had shaken him since he had taken him home from the defibriefing. "Just a few sips, do it for me Mac."  
He nodded, and forced himself to send down that yellow liquid that smelled of orange. On the third attempt his stomach had already overturned. "Another couple of sips, hoss." Jack's tone was pleading, veiled with concern. He pushed the glass slightly away, giving Mac time to regain his composure. "Mac please, I'm trying to avoid the hospital, but you have to collaborate."

Mac woke up that morning or at least assumed it was morning, with a feeling of tiredness and exhaustion that he had experienced only a few times in his life. He narrowed his eyes to the light that filtered through his window, the room was lit in a rather pleasant way. Someone, Jack mentally corrected Mac, had pulled the curtains but had left a crack so that the room was lit but not too bright. So he was in his room, which surprised him enough. He was almost sure that Jack had mentioned at one point a hospital or the medical bay of the Phoenix. Uncomfortable he moved on the bed, feeling his right arm strangely numb and a pain, all too familiar for his young life as a secret agent, which could be traced back to an IV.  
With your eyes, follow the line of the tube that started from his wrist until you reach the top of the rod which hung an envelope that certainly contained liquids in the eye and cross. With his free hand he rubbed his eyes, barely suppressing a yawn.  
"Look who's back among us, well awake."  
Jack was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed, and watched him with a look between the worried and the relieved.  
"Do not even think about it. That is in its place. How are you feeling? "  
Mac waited a few minutes before answering, carefully evaluating how tired, confident he felt, but he was much better than yesterday or the day before.  
So Mac shrugged, "Better. A little confused.” Levering with his free arm, he sat up, surprised when no headache broke out and his stomach stayed in place.  
Jack came up to him, watching him carefully, evaluating him. Mac knew him so well that he could guess exactly what Jack was thinking, for example he was now wondering if Mac had lied and was still sick. "Are you sure?" Mac smiled and nodded but did not move away, rather leaning on his touch when Jack with a seemingly casual gesture discovered him I keep the hair from my forehead. "I'm fine, Jack, really ..."  
"I trust ..." Jack replied, sitting on the bed that bent under the weight of the man, "Also because yesterday you really scared me."  
Jack swallowed at the memory of Mac, who was unconscious in the War Room in his arms and almost stiffened to remember that Mac had lied about his condition and had carefully avoided telling everyone that he was unwell to complete a mission that could very well have been conducted by another Phoenix team.  
During the trip home that Mac remembered quite well, Jack had been adamant in reminding the blond agent that the two of them were not the only agents of the Phoenix; that they couldn't carry out all the missions just because Mac had decided so. He didn't have to prove to anyone how much he was worth, that they were widely aware of it, especially Jack, and that jeopardizing one's health was unconscious and not at all genius. Then the rest for Mac was all out of focus. Some events came to him in flashes and he almost blushed when he realized that he had behaved like a child when the fever had risen.  
"By the way, I owe you an apology...”  
Mac lowered his head, blond tufts falling on his now fresh forehead.  
Jack shook his head and with his fingers brushing the back of Mac's hand that was twisting the covers, at the moment they were replacing the staples. "Okay Mac, I understand...” The corners of Mac's mouth turned into a shy smile. This was the beauty of their relationship, they didn't need words or explanations. They understood each other on the fly and this was as true in the field as in private life. "Thanks Jack."


End file.
